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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514780">Don't Feed Me, I Will Come Back</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomcat_sophie/pseuds/tomcat_sophie'>tomcat_sophie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimson Flower Spoilers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Ferdinand has too many feelings, Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Hubert POV, Hubert is Bad At Feelings, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), White Clouds spoilers, ferdibert, hands....., no beta we die like Glenn, they’re gay and in denial... or at least Hubert is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 04:34:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514780</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomcat_sophie/pseuds/tomcat_sophie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hubert finds himself enjoying his arguments with Ferdinand. They become unlikely confidants for each other as time goes on and war breaks out. Hubert doesn't know how to deal with the feelings that develop more and more each time he interacts with Ferdinand.</p><p>title from “It Will Come Back” by Hozier</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hubert knows the unsettling effect he has on his classmates. Why does one, Ferdinand von Aegir, seem to be immune to his intimidation?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hubert von Vestra was an intimidating figure, and well aware of it. He was among the tallest students at Garreg Mach, the better for looming ominously over an unsuspecting target. His eyes, or rather, his one eye not covered by a curtain of raven hair, was almost constantly narrowed, scrutinizing anything within view. He always enjoyed a well-placed sneer or villainous chuckle, and reveled in how his peers avoided him. In fact, whenever he came within 50 feet of Bernadetta she ran off, crying, in the other direction. Although, Hubert scoffed, frightening Bernadetta was hardly an accomplishment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he entered the Black Eagles’ classroom, his eyes settled on the only person, save Lady Edelgard, who seemed immune to Hubert’s intimidation tactics: Ferdinand von Aegir. The picture of a perfect noble, he sat prim and proper at his desk in the front row. While Hubert seemed to emit an aura of darkness, the light catching on Ferdinand’s ginger hair made him glow like personified sunshine. Scowling, Hubert chose a seat in the back of the room. Ferdinand von Aegir, the Prime Minister’s son… Hubert couldn’t wait for Lady Edelgard’s plans to move forward and relinquish the arrogant brat of his cherished nobility. How he thought he’d be of any use to the imperial princess was beyond Hubert, especially considering his obsession with surpassing her. Their most recent conversation was fresh in his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you think it is tiresome to have a mind of your own, you will never be much of an advisor,” Ferdinand exclaimed, his voice echoing within the expanse of the Entrance Hall. His anger and annoyance were incredibly palpable, especially considering his clenched jaw and flushed cheeks. He must have no self control, Hubert thought, considering how clearly his emotions were always painted on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does the river of filth pouring out of your mouth ever stop flowing?” Hubert spat back, “Your obsession with all things superficial is disgusting. It's no use.” He sighed, albeit while internally snickering at Ferdinand’s exaggerated expression of frustration.  “You're hopeless. I’ll take my leave”. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have nothing more to say to you. Get out of here,” Ferdinand retorted, holding his ground. That was admirable at least, even though Hubert knew it was primarily for him to have the last word in their argument. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert reminisced on their meeting fondly. Although Ferdinand was absolutely insufferable, his passionate nature made him an enjoyable conversation partner. Hubert relished opportunities to torment his peers, but the majority of the time he experienced no pushback. Ferdinand had some fight in him. He didn’t allow himself to be walked all over, even if his argumentative strategy was mediocre at best. The professor’s voice snapped Hubert back to reality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor Byleth began a lecture on battalion formations that he could have understood in his sleep. Tuning out the irrelevant drivel, Hubert returned to his thoughts. Had he just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>complimented</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ferdinand? No, of course not. It was merely an impartial observation. Von Aegir’s refusal to submit to him was simply pride and naïveté. If Hubert enjoyed their little squabbles, it was of little importance. Lady Edelgard’s ambitions were soon to come to fruition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smirked. Would Ferdinand remain so high and mighty once stripped of his title? The nobility were a scourge in Fódlan, placed by those inhuman beasts hiding in plain sight within the Church of Seiros. Thinking of it made his blood boil, but Hubert’s strong suit was self-control, and he did not let his fury be detected by anyone in the classroom. His eyes traveled back to von Aegir. He wondered if the upstanding young man could feel his gaze bore into the back of his skull. Hubert began to imagine Ferdinand’s reaction as he found out the unsavory deeds of his father. Would he be angry? Would he clench his fists in rage at the Prime Minister’s actions? Would he be sad? Would he shrink his shoulders forward, hide his face in his carefully manicured hands? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing his name drew Hubert’s attention away from his daydream once again. Glancing up to the professor and the chalkboard, he was both intrigued and remiss to see he was assigned to stable duty this week, with none other than Ferdinand himself. He noticed the head of bright orange hair turning towards him to make wary eye contact. Hubert quirked his visible eyebrow in curiosity. He had no idea what the professor was thinking, having him on stable duty; he was no horse whisperer. Similar to humans, horses seemed to be spooked when in close proximity to him. Giving Ferdinand this task made much more sense. He had seen him return to the monastery in his riding boots with windblown hair countless times. Perhaps his experience would calm the horses to Hubert’s menacing presence. Like it or not, he had to complete these menial tasks to remain inconspicuous while on Garreg Mach’s grounds.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've enjoyed fanfic for years but haven't really tried writing one! I'm so in love with Ferdibert... and would appreciate any and all feedback :) I'll update the tags and rating as the story progresses. </p><p>My fe3h meme Instagram is @ferdibert_simp</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hubert doesn't know how to deal with horses and Ferdinand laughs at him (in a good-hearted way). Hubert's perception of Ferdinand shifts and the interaction goes surprisingly smoothly.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was hot and humid, as many days were in the Verdant Rain Moon, when Hubert began begrudgingly walking to the stables. Just how he wanted to spend his weekend: Sweating through his constrictive academy uniform, getting mud all over his boots, and working together with Ferdinand von Aegir. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Delightful.</span>
  </em>
  <span>As he approached, he spotted a crop of ginger hair emerging from one of the horse stalls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dorte! We must get you back to your usual handsome state. These knots in your mane simply will not do,” Ferdinand doted on the chestnut-colored stallion as he led it out to be groomed. Of course, Hubert mused, of course he would talk with the horses. He glanced up to Ferdinand’s face as it came into view. Despite his upbeat mood, it was clear that he was suffering from the infernal heat as well. Sweat glistened on his brow and a rosy flush was drawn across his face. It was at this moment that his amber eyes met Hubert’s. “Ah, you’ve arrived,” he acknowledged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clearly,” Hubert retorted, carefully pulling off and folding his gloves before placing them in his pocket. The white silk was immaculate, and he was not about to soil them with equine detritus. His hands were stained black in jagged patterns, some extending up his arm, due to years of casting dark magic. He noticed Ferdinand’s eyes flit down to glance at them, just for a second, before returning back to meet his gaze. Hubert smirked. Perhaps he was finally unnerved after all. Seeing the evidence of deadly spells cast by his hands must be frightening. On the contrary, Ferdinand’s gaze softened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let us begin, then,” he smiled, “Dorte very desperately needs his coat taken care of.” Hubert frowned. That was an awfully chipper response. Whenever Ferdinand brushed off his intimidation tactics, Hubert became all the more intent on breaking his resolve. He strode directly towards the horse, intending to take the reigns and begin their tedious task. Unfortunately, He had forgotten the effect he had on horses and recoiled suddenly as Dorte reared up onto his back legs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Flames!” Hubert yelped, scrambling back against the nearest fence post. Ferdinand burst out into raucous laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You cannot approach a horse head-on like that, Hubert,” He responded in between chuckles, “Poor Dorte probably thought you were about to end his life!” Ferdinand shushed the horse, stroking its muzzle gently to calm its nerves. “Despite their strength, horses are gentle creatures and easily spooked,” he giggled, noticing how Hubert warily eyed the stallion. “Perhaps that temperament is familiar to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am certain you did not just compare me to this brainless beast,” Hubert spat back, stepping away from the fence he had been clinging to. He was not ‘easily spooked’! A one-ton behemoth had practically trampled him just a moment ago! Hubert's internal argument was interrupted by an outstretched hand in his personal space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come,” Ferdinand’s eyes locked into his own, “Let me show you.” Hubert stared at the noble’s hand, hovering so close to his own. His skin was unmarred by magic or scars, pristine and smooth. A duality of feeling bubbled up within Hubert. The first was anger. This man was so perfect, everything handed to him on a silver platter. He knew nothing of the battles Hubert was forced to fight in the shadows. The second emotion was difficult to define. Yes, Ferdinand never had to slink through the darkness to defeat increasingly treacherous foes. He was unapologetically himself; loud, righteous, and true. All Hubert knew was to serve Lady Edelgard and eliminate anything and anyone who stood in her way. He thought back to their argument in the entrance hall. Perhaps, he pondered, there was merit in what Ferdinand had said. He must make his own decisions to most effectively further the goals of his Lady and the Empire. He grasped the extended hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the weather, Hubert’s hands were cold, as always. Thus, the feeling of Ferdinand’s warmth was a welcome contrast. Pulled forward with surprising strength, Hubert found himself a few paces distance from a rather disgruntled horse. Cats were the only animals that he enjoyed being around and tolerated his presence; and, he noted, were significantly less imposing than the creature in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When approaching a horse,” Ferdinand began, “it is best to do so from the side.” He gave Hubert a reassuring smile before guiding him towards Dorte’s flank. “Then,” he continued while extending their still-linked arms, “Allow them to sniff you and become acquainted with your scent”. Hubert flinched as he felt the horse’s steamy breath. Ferdinand gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. “Now that you’ve gotten to know each other, I’m sure Dorte would be thankful to have you groom him.” Dorte whinnied, as if in confirmation of the words. Finally, the grip on Hubert’s hand was released, and he subconsciously missed the comforting contact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coming back to his senses, he grabbed the nearest curry comb. Cautiously, he moved the comb across Dorte’s coat, and the horse relaxed into his touch. Ferdinand beamed at him, and Hubert couldn’t help but let the edges of his mouth crook upwards as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps I’ve been well-taught,” Hubert admitted, continuing to brush Dorte. Noticing the clumsy patterns of his brush strokes, however, Ferdinand took the curry comb from his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves quite yet,” He chuckled. “When you use this type of comb you want to move it in circular patterns,” He followed up with a demonstration. Hubert was surprised at the intricacy of it all. He assumed brushing a horse was just brushing a horse, how complicated could it be? His thoughts were halted by a different comb being pushed into his hands. “Why don’t you try using this wide-tooth comb?” Ferdinand offered with an endearing smile. “Use this to brush through his mane.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert examined the new tool he was given. This was much more familiar to him, as he was tasked with taking care of Lady Edelgard’s hair since they were young. The imperial princess did not have to be burdened by such niceties. He began to detangle the mane in small sections, working out each tangle gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are quite skilled at this!” Ferdinand interjected, bemused. Hubert felt the other’s eyes trail his work, silently deeming it worthy. He felt an odd sense of accomplishment. He decided to further impress Ferdinand, as he simply could not allow him to have the upper hand any longer. In order to get Lady Edelgard ready for events, he often had to style her hair in ornate patterns. After he finished combing through Dorte’s mane, he weaved his slim fingers through it deftly, creating a simple, but polished braid. Hubert removed his eyes from his work to look at Ferdinand, who’s gaze sparkled with curiosity, respect, and another indeterminate emotion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they had finished their tasks and gave their report to Byleth, the professor seemed pleasantly surprised: “A perfect result.” It was rare to see any emotion out of them at all, so this reaction caught both Hubert and Ferdinand off guard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seems our rivalry worked in our favor,” Hubert replied, casting an incredulous glance at Ferdinand, who was already looking back with a similar sense of curiosity.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter ended up being longer than I initially anticipated but!!! ....hands.........</p>
<p>feel free to leave comments, critiques, and suggestions!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Remire Calamity is distressing, but Hubert is familiar with this sort of dark magic. Ferdinand, however, does not respond well to his first glimpse into the plot of those who slither in the dark.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Remire village was full of atrocities, but atrocities created using the sort of dark magic Hubert was, unfortunately, familiar with. He sighed, glancing over to Lady Edelgard, who was swiftly dispatching a rampaging villager with her axe. The ferocity of her swing may have seemed standard to others, but Hubert knew she was agitated at the presence of the Agarthan soldiers. Neither was aware that Those Who Slither In The Dark were the ones causing this calamity before their arrival, and the presence of the Death Knight made it all the more annoying. Hubert couldn’t wait to double-cross those disgusting underground creatures; he spent hours researching into their secret strongholds in preparation. As Byleth ordered him to advance further into the center of the battle, he refocused his attention on the nearby enemies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert easily killed the mysterious mages with well-placed shots of Miasma Δ, magical energy still crackling at his fingertips. Encroaching further into enemy lines, he spotted Ferdinand retrieving his lance from a crazed villager’s lifeless body. Despite the overwhelming thanks and gratitude of the surrounding sane inhabitants of Remire, he hung his head low, bright orange bangs obscuring his face. The debris on Ferdinand’s hair prevented it from shining in the harsh sunlight, as it normally would have. It seemed as if his usual radiance had been consumed by the dark magic swirling around them. When he finally picked his head up, Hubert noticed tears clearing lines through the dirt on Ferdinand’s face. Before he realized what he was doing, Hubert began pushing through the enemies between him and the other noble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ferdinand, are you injured?” Hubert called out. He had never seen such despair on the other’s face, even when they had gotten into particularly vicious arguments. Something must be terribly wrong. Despite their squabbles, Hubert knew Ferdinand was currently an asset to the Empire and needed to be protected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Relief washed through Hubert’s body. “But even if I was,” Ferdinand continued, “Why would </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>even care?” That relief was quickly replaced with deep-seated hurt. Of course, they were rivals, but being stuck at Garreg Mach without someone to argue with would have been intolerable. Hubert remained offended until Ferdinand finally lifted his head fully and made eye contact. He was clearly distraught, tears continuing to flow freely down his cheeks and join the mud under their feet. Hubert’s heart ached at the sight. Before he had been irritated at Ferdinand’s purity, jealous of how he never had to resort to the shadowy tactics that Hubert had become a master of. Now, he knew that he never wanted to see the other man subjected to such iniquity again. This was not where Ferdinand von Aegir belonged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ferdinand, I--” Hubert began, but was abruptly cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve killed civilians,” Ferdinand gasped, “How could I possibly consider myself an upstanding noble?” He dropped his lance. “What if they could have been cured of their affliction? I’m supposed to be protecting these people…” He buried his face in his hands with a sob. Hubert began to reach out, intending to rest his hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder, but stopped short. As he hovered a few inches away, he noticed the swirling black scars on his hand once again. He was the type of mage that caused this tragedy. He was familiar with the spells used to cause such aggression and madness. He was not the person to be providing comfort in a time like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Hubert tore his eyes away from Ferdinand in shame. It was by pure luck that he was able to notice and eliminate an approaching enemy just before they attacked. They were in the middle of a battle, after all. He pushed down his emotions, a skill well-practiced, and tried to form an appropriate response to the crumpled man beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ferdinand,” he tried to say sternly, but some sadness snuck through, “You have done nothing wrong. Please, retreat.” The ginger looked up, seeming to have regained some composure, and began to respond. “I can’t let you get hurt.” Hubert interrupted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I said, I am not injured,” Ferdinand retorted, grabbing his lance. “As such, I have no reason to retreat.” He wiped the last of his tears away. “A noble never retreats.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed that Ferdinand had returned to himself, at least slightly. Hubert smiled. Although his hands were shaking around his lance and his eyes were still red from recently shed tears, the man standing beside him was Ferdinand von Aegir once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s finish this, then,” Hubert replied, clearing a path towards “Tomas”, although he knew at this point that it was simply an Agarthan disguise. As they forged ahead, the librarian’s true form was revealed: Solon, just as grotesque as the rest of his kind. He noticed Ferdinand physically recoil at the sight of him, but continued to stand strong. Hubert knew he must be terrified, and yet, here he stood. He gripped his lance tighter, poised to strike, next to his own hands primed with magic. Self-loathing washed over Hubert once more. He didn’t understand why Ferdinand would take up arms with him. He wasn’t a charismatic leader like Edelgard or a skilled warrior like Petra. He slinked around just behind the front lines, casting deadly magic out of range of enemy weapons. Ferdinand fought, up close and personal, through his tears, against foes with power he couldn’t comprehend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on command, Ferdinand ran Solon through with his lance at the first tactical opening. Their adversary looked perturbed, almost annoyed at how he had been wounded by mere students. With a flash, he teleported away, causing Ferdinand to fall forward at the loss of counter-force against his weapon. On instinct, he grabbed onto Hubert to stop himself from hitting the ground. Once stabilized, Ferdinand burst into tears once again, never letting go of Hubert’s arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m sorry,” he cried, “I have never seen such--” Hubert cut him off, shushing him, and began leading him back to the rest of their classmates and professor. Ferdinand glanced up at Hubert, who was intentionally avoiding his gaze. He couldn’t look at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert was afraid of what he would feel if he saw his face. The ache in his chest was already too much to bear. He couldn’t stop seeing the anguish on Ferdinand’s face, and he wanted so desperately to alleviate it. He wanted to wipe away his tears and tell him that it was all going to be okay. But he couldn’t. He didn’t deserve to. He was meant to be sequestered to the shadows, and Ferdinand was made to bask in the sunlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they reunited with the rest of the Black Eagles, the professor and their classmates all congratulated Ferdinand on his victory against Solon. Hubert locked eyes with Edelgard, silently understanding that they would have to debrief on this encounter later in the evening. He watched the rest of the class chat together and begin to unwind after the tense battle. Despite the cheery smile plastered on his face, Ferdinand’s eyes betrayed him. They were tinged with sadness. Hubert didn’t understand how nobody else could see that these festivities were inappropriate given Ferdinand’s discomfort. He grew frustrated at the others’ ignorance and turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the march back to the monastery, Hubert walked alone behind Lady Edelgard, as usual. He felt a presence approaching him from behind, and recognizing the footfalls, addressed the figure before he came into view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To what do I owe the pleasure, Ferdinand?” Hubert asked, chuckling as he heard the young man gasp behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“However did you know it was me?” Ferdinand replied, and then, leaving no room for a response, continued. “No matter. I just wanted to thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s most unnecessary,” Hubert replied, puzzled. He wasn’t sure what Ferdinand had to thank him for. Perhaps terminating that brigand who was charging them by surprise?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it is absolutely necessary.” Ferdinand insisted, “I-- I was in a rough spot, and you noticed immediately. You saw me struggling and came to my aid with no prompting.” He looked up earnestly at Hubert. “You weren’t even the nearest ally to me. Caspar and Linhardt were 10 paces closer.” Hubert hadn’t noticed that. He barely noticed anyone on the battlefield besides Lady Edelgard and Ferdinand, now that he thought of it. “I have no doubt I would not have been able to continue if you had not rushed to my side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were the one who decided to keep fighting,” Hubert argued, “I encouraged you to retreat.” He was truly surprised that Ferdinand entered the fray. He is certainly tenacious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You consoled me in my time of need. That is all I required to regain my strength.” Ferdinand paused. “I truly admire you,” he stated, plainly. “Your composure in the face of horrors like Remire is admirable. I hope to match your resolve one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Personally,” Hubert sighed, “I hope you never become accustomed to such things.” He looked down at his feet, building up the courage to meet Ferdinand’s eye. “I’m afraid the more comfortable I become around wickedness, the less human I become.” He was surprised to feel Ferdinand grasp his hand tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were the only one who recognized my distress,” He professed. “That is the most human action I can think of.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was so fun to write but also its SO angsty I had to keep stopping cause I was getting too into it. lmfao.. i love these boys....</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hubert tries to avoid his feelings for Ferdinand... Ferdinand becomes irritated at the distance considering how close he thought they were becoming. A confrontation happens at the winter ball.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for waiting for the next chapter!! Everything has been so busy but of course I had to come back to my favorite angsty boys. </p>
<p>Let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was just a moment of weakness. That’s what Hubert kept telling himself, anyway. His actions during the Remire village mission confounded him, but thankfully nobody else besides Ferdinand seemed to notice. Hubert thought the Black Eagles’ ignorance was perfect, and he intended to feed into it by acting like nothing had changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Nothing had changed… right? So he had one serious, rather emotional conversation with Ferdinand von Aegir. That doesn’t mean anything: It doesn’t change that he’s a spoiled brat; it doesn’t change that he’s the son of a corrupt Prime Minister; and it doesn’t change that he cried like a child on the battlefield. Nothing has changed, and Ferdinand is a fool to consider Hubert anything other than the conniving dark mage he is. Ferdinand is absolutely a fool... But that doesn’t mean anything: It doesn’t change his tenacious drive; it doesn’t change how he always has the kindest intentions; and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn’t change the way his copper hair glimmers in the light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Hubert stood up suddenly from his desk chair, catching himself in the act. Perhaps this ‘moment of weakness’ is persisting longer than he anticipated. This is certainly not ideal, especially considering the war he and Lady Edelgard plan on starting in a few months' time. Hubert sighed and buried his face in his hands. Here he was, trying to make preparations for the upcoming battle on Garreg Mach, but becoming distracted by Ferdinand von Aegir. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ferdinand von Aegir</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The noble says his name enough on his own-- Hubert did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>need it to be repeatedly echoed in his subconscious as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next several days progressed as expected. Hubert attended class, met often with Lady Edelgard and ‘Monica’, and otherwise kept to himself. He may have retreated back to his room with additional haste, he’d admit, however. That is to say, he couldn’t help but notice those familiar footfalls, scrambling to catch up to him on his walk from the Black Eagles’ classroom. The pattern of Ferdinand’s steps had become somewhat less regular, an erratic syncopation added to the normally steady rhythmic march. Hubert smirked at the thought. It was so easy to detect the other’s emotions, at least for his sharpened perception. He was on the other end of the spectrum, maintaining his cold, intimidating, and rather arrogant persona. He hoped that Ferdinand would get the message. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The White Heron Cup came and went, with Dorothea winning easily. Hubert was pleased, as she seemed to harbor a rightful hate for the nobility, and having a Dancer within the Imperial army would be a useful tactical advantage. Morale was high as the ball approached, and even though he wasn’t much of a party-goer, Hubert noticed his own spirits lifting as well. Perhaps that was what dropped his guard, and allowed Ferdinand to approach him on their next free day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hubert!” Ferdinand exclaimed, startling the mage as he walked to the dining hall. He recovered almost instantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah. Hello Ferdinand,” Hubert spat out with as much disdain as he could muster. “I see you have finally learned a name other than your own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As a matter of fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hubert von Vestra</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he teased without missing a beat, “I am well aware of your name and title. You are usually first to point out my so-called obsession with the nobility.” Ferdinand paused, remembering why he approached in the first place. It was so easy to fall into their habit of bantering. He cleared his throat. “Well, to get to the matter at hand,” He continued, “I wanted to ask you to join me for tea this afternoon.” He looked up at Hubert expectedly, awaiting his response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That caught Hubert off guard, and it shouldn’t have. Ferdinand had been trying to talk with him for weeks, obviously he wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Considering their last interaction, this request was predictable given Ferdinand’s love of tea and desire to communicate. Despite all of this, Hubert was surprised nonetheless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh-- well, I,” he stuttered, before regaining his resolve, “I absolutely must refuse.” His confidence returned. “I have much more important things to attend to, and cannot waste time on such frivolities. Especially with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>After punctuating his final sentence with a scoff, Hubert absconded as fast as possible to his room. He grumbled, realizing he wouldn’t be having lunch after all, but at the moment his primary objective was to get away from Ferdinand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as the door to his room shut, Hubert let out a sigh of relief. Did Ferdinand really expect him to accept that ridiculous offer? His aversion to tea is well known within the monastery. Although, that’s probably the last reason Hubert needed to reject the invitation, anyway. He was… busy. But whenever he tried to sit down and work, he couldn’t focus. It was entirely unlike him. Perhaps he’s ill. Yes! That must be it, there is no other possible explanation for his lack of resolve. Come to think of it, when he was around Ferdinand, he did feel a sort of disturbance in his stomach-- maybe it’s good he avoided the dining hall after all. Well, he hoped that the ailment would resolve itself promptly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the day of the ball, Hubert was pleased to find himself feeling perfectly adequate. He was sleep-deprived, as always, but it was nothing a cup of coffee couldn’t fix. Lady Edelgard seemed cheerful when he arrived at her room, which in turn improved Hubert’s own mood. He had arrived to help his lady prepare for the upcoming festivities. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whenever you style my hair for events, I begin to feel like a child again,” she murmured, fidgeting with the tassels on her formalwear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is simply the service and devotion the Imperial Princess deserves,” he replied, all the while continuing his precise weaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad that this </span>
  <em>
    <span>service</span>
  </em>
  <span> has improved from when you were first assigned to it,” Edelgard taunted, “I thought the tangles would never come out the first time you tried to braid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert stalled, not sure how to respond, “I- my sincerest apologies- I never meant--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, please. You must know I’m kidding,” she interrupted, frowning. “You have seemed so… on edge, lately, Hubert.” She reached back to remove his hands from her hair and turned around to face him. “Is everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything is fine. You need not concern yourself with my foolish emotions,” he insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, there really is something wrong,” she chuckled, “You just admitted to having emotions!” Hubert pinched the bridge of his nose but relented when he felt Lady Edelgard’s hand reach out and softly touch his arm. “Look,” she said, regaining a sense of seriousness, “I know you are under a tremendous amount of stress, much of which I, myself, inflict.” Before Hubert could profusely reiterate his undying loyalty, Edelgard continued, “Please try to take this night of celebration to decompress.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If only to follow the orders of his beloved lady, Hubert attempted to enjoy the ball. However, merry events such as this were not what he found enjoyable. He waited until he could lock eyes with Lady Edelgard, and she immediately shooed him away. Hubert smiled. She must have anticipated his desire to leave the dance. He was instructed to relax, and therefore knew he could not return to his room-- the numerous tasks waiting on his desk would be too irresistible. After a moment to think, Hubert set off towards the Goddess Tower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the raucous celebration became a muffled din, and the cool air tickled his skin, Hubert did find himself loosening up. He stood at the balcony, silently looking out over Garreg Mach. By the time he heard the footsteps and turned around, it was too late. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fancy running into you here,” Ferdinand called out to him, hovering just outside of the tower staircase. Of course. Hubert could not have one peaceful moment to himself… but he didn't flee when Ferdinand strode toward him. He stopped a few short paces away. “Why have you been avoiding me?” The tinge of hurt in Ferdinand’s voice was not well concealed. The uneasy feeling in Hubert’s stomach returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he denied. Ferdinand became even more visibly agitated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you lying to me? I am not stupid. You don’t trust me?” he exclaimed, stepping closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust is not in my nature,” Hubert stated, plainly. He felt his palms begin to sweat as Ferdinand approached him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clearly,” Ferdinand chided, stopping dangerously close to Hubert, searching his green eyes for… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He would be unable to find whatever it was he was looking for, as Hubert quickly darted his eyes down to the stone floor. “I felt that we had a moment of connection. Finally, we were able to talk to each other without hostility,” Ferdinand paused, then chuckled, startling Hubert and causing him to look back up at the other’s face. “Although, I am quite amenable to our verbal ripostes, to be honest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert immediately discovered that looking at Ferdinand was a huge mistake: The moonlight caused his amber eyes to sparkle, and the gentle wind had ruffled his hair ever so slightly. Before he could regain his senses, the young noble spoke again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hubert…” Ferdinand began, “If you had simply acted in your usual apathetic manner, I would have written off our interaction as a fluke,” he paused, and reached for Hubert’s hand, “But your desperate attempts to evade me only confirmed that what I hoped was true…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just before they would have touched, Hubert smacked Ferdinand’s hand away. He refused to meet the other’s eyes. “Save your words for someone who cares to listen.” As he pushed past Ferdinand and stalked towards the staircase, Hubert ignored the tightness in his chest. When he reached his room and slammed the door behind him, Hubert felt no sense of relief. </span>
</p>
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